


My best friend, Sherlock Holmes, is dead.

by Eulalia_writer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Angry John, Angst and Feels, Dead Sherlock, Hurt No Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, John Makes Tea, John-centric, M/M, POV John Watson, Post-Reichenbach, Sad John, Sorry Not Sorry, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9080275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eulalia_writer/pseuds/Eulalia_writer
Summary: Some of John's post Reichenbach thoughts about his new life without Sherlock: when nothing feels like it had always been, he starts wishing to have his friend back.





	

_“My best friend, Sherlock Holmes, is dead.”._  
My therapist had me repeating this so many times it has become meaningless.

It means nothing to me.

_“Sherlock is dead.”._

Again and again.  
Ten times a day.  
 _Ten times a day for a whole month._

I so far realized that it's the same thing that happens when you read a word many and many times and you end up wondering if those letters do even have a meaning. She says they do mean something, and that I need to become aware of that, because I'm never going to feel better until I won't let him go.

Fun fact is, I actu _ally don't want to._  
_Why would I? Why should I?_  
 _In order to feel better? How could I feel better letting go on my best friend?_

Sometimes I still can feel his presence. Sometimes I still wish he might come back.

He would enter our apartment, hang his coat and sit on his chair, complaining because Lestrade couldn't solve “such an easy case”.  
I would listen to him carefully, laughing at his innocent and sarcastic comments and settling the kettle while arguing with him about the fact that calling a policeman a “bug” is not polite at all.

_And it would be just like he had never gone._

I spent a few days right after that day still looking for him through the apartment before realizing he was not there anymore.  
I still look for him in the crowd anytime I hear someone playing the violin.  
I still scream his name after every nightmare and still wait for him to run and check if I'm okay.

_I still make tea for two._

But he's not coming back.

“Dead.”.

Maybe those words together are meaningless, but I know what does this one means, and it means Sherlock is not coming back.  
I'm alone. He left me alone becoming this lonely alcoholic with nothing to think of except for his death.  
New nightmares haunt me and my nights have become eventually worse than before.  
I can see him jumping from that roof. I can see his blood on the pavement.

_“Sherlock is dead. My best friend is dead.”._

As far as I'm concerned, _I'd rather have died with him, too._


End file.
